rose petals
by badgalbri
Summary: They always look so beautiful. So pure. You just want to take it for yourself. But remember, every rose has its thorns. Oneshot.


He's like the one. You know, the one that you want to wake up every morning to and let them see all your flaws knowing they'll still love you. That's who he was to me and it was always hard for me to tell him but easy for him to know.

I've had two major people in my life betray me and I didn't want a third. The first person was my mom. She died when I was 10 years old. She would smoke weed every now and then but heroin was her main thing. She stopped when I was three because my brother was born but not when I'm born, right? But my mom and I did everything together, like a basic mother and daughter. We went shopping, out to lunch, fed bread to the ducks and anything else you could think of. She was a happier person without her drugs. I guess she got back into it and no one noticed. She probably scored some with her old druggie friends. It was one of the worst days of my life. She abandoned me and there was no one left in my corner. It was like I wasn't important enough to get her to stop. My dad was a complete wreck when we got home. He hit me that exact day.

My dad was the second one to betray me. I was subjected to physical and verbal abuse. He blamed me for my mom's death when he knew his alcoholism drove her to her ways. He gave me these cuts across my neck when he decided to put me in a chokehold one night and slowly but harshly take his hands off my neck. He gave me matching bruise marks all over my body and some scars too. I gave myself a few scars of my own that I'm not too proud about. I thought about suicide or turning my dad in multiple times but I didn't want my brother to be caught in between. He would either start getting abused or we would get separated in some foster home.

It was so difficult but I get used it to after a year and after two years, I barely felt the pain anymore. It was routine for me. I would wake up, go to school, come home, get slapped around, do all my homework before my dad got back home, get hit some more and called a few names then off to sleep. He would bring home any girl he could found find just so he could get a nut off until he realized he didn't need to do that anymore. He started sexually abusing me when I was 13.

The first night he came into my room, I thought he just wanted to hit me around a little more. Three times a day? I kept telling myself it would be just a few more punches and maybe a couple of kicks too. But he sat down on the bed and started playing with my hair. I was waiting for him to pull it but he never did. Instead he just slowly moved his hand down to my leg and then in between my thighs. And you get the picture from there. He thought I was enjoying this and receiving pleasure but I was disgusted because I couldn't control my body responses to this.

We moved across the country to Virginia when I was little over 14 because my dad was sick of California. He raped me on my 15th birthday. It was one of those few nights when it was warm outside but there was still a cool breeze. He just barged in my room and I already knew what was going to happen after being his little toy for two years. I didn't even cry or flinch when he took my clothes off or when he entered me. I prepared myself for this day because I knew he would eventually get tired of the touchy feely game and want more. I've never celebrated my birthday since then. I don't even tell people when my birthday is anymore cause they wouldn't understand why I hate it so much.

I started drinking in December of that year at some Christmas party. I was friends with the older kids in my neighborhood so they invited me to their parties and other events. I only did it to help numb the pain and it was fine until I realized that I was just getting memory loss when I was drunk and a hangover the next day. Then I began doing heroin when I was 16 years old. My older friends didn't mind sharing with me and I would use my dad's stash or his money to buy some more if I needed to. It wasn't that bad of an addiction at first but all addictions start out that way. The heroin mixed with the alcohol and abuse eventually drove me to depression.

My brother found me a month before my 18th birthday unconscious on the bathroom floor. I took a bunch of my dad's sleeping pills because I just didn't want to wake up anymore. I got checked into rehab back in Cali, my dad was sentenced 25 to life and my brother luckily moved in with his best friend's family back in California so we were still close. I was so happy they managed to stay friends all these years, his friend's parents would even fly him back there from time to time. His parents knew what happened to me since they had to take him in but they never said anything. After a year and half, I got out and I moved in with my lawyer's family who happened to be neighbors with my brother's best friend. It all worked out since my best friend was my brother's best friend's sister. A mouth full right? But I went straight to school since I got a couple credits from taking classes while in rehab. I finally graduated when I was 23 years old.

I met him at some house party four years ago when I was 20. My friends and I decided to have a girls' night out and he came over to ask me to dance. I didn't know him but at the time, he was a player and a heartbreaker. He was looking for a girl to score with and I was just having fun. He turned me around and grabbed my neck to pull me for a kiss. I completely freaked and ran out of the house. I started pacing on the sidewalk back and forth. All I could keep telling myself is that I was safe from my dad. I didn't see him at first but but he followed me out the house, something I didn't expect. We sat down on the sidewalk and I just keep breathing heavy. I finally relaxed and dropped my hands from my neck. He asked me if I was okay and I was about to answer but I saw the way he was looking at my neck. He saw the scar. He had the same reaction everyone does when they see it. I told him I just got into fight and the girl got a little more violent than expected. We just sat there for a while in silence and I told him I was just going to head home. But he followed me to the sidewalk with a concerned look on his face. But I just gave him a bothered look so he went back in the house. And that was that.

Two months later, a mutual friend of ours had a little get together with his friend at their apartment to celebrate them getting their own place. I didn't even see him until I was in the kitchen. I went to get some chips and he wanted another soda. I thanked him for looking out for me that night and I could see the confusion in his face but he eventually realized who I was. He sat down and we just started talking. He told me about his whole life and school and I dodged every question saying I don't like talking about myself. We exchanged numbers and became best friends throughout those months. We did everything together, just like me and my mom did. I started to trust him and a few times, I would just sit there and cry on his shoulder. I've never cried in front of anyone, not even my best friends or my brother. He didn't know those days symbolized my mother's death, my birthday or the day my brother found me unconscious and he never asked.

One day we went to the lake to feed the ducks, I told him that my mom and I used to do this at the old house when I was little. I told him she died of a heroin overdose then everything else from my past came spilling out. He was the first person I told. My best friends didn't know, not even my best friend from rehab. She just knew I had a drug problem. My brother was the only one. I wasn't sure how he was going to take it, I just wanted him to still be my friend but I could understand if he didn't want to be friends with a basket case. He just held me and told me that he loves me.

The next day, he took me out to lunch at my favorite restaurant like we always do twice a month. He ordered for me like he always does. I went to grab his hand; it always reassured me that he was still there for me. Then he asked me to be his girlfriend. I wasn't exactly prepared for that after what I told him yesterday. Our friends always said we looked like a couple but I always thought he would never want to be with someone with so much baggage. I just looked at him and I felt like my insides were shutting down. My eyes were begging him not to hurt me but my heart wanted to be with him so bad. I couldn't let another person break my trust and heart. I just started crying on the spot but it was the first time I cried because I was happy. And after all this chaos, there was only one thing left to say.

"Yes."


End file.
